Mon Chaton
by PurpleMew
Summary: This is a FrancexReader fanfic. Please note that this is my first fan fiction ever, so it is terrible and poorly written. Proceed with caution!


"Great," you whisper to yourself. "Just perfect."

You had just lost a bet with Prussia and now you had to be France's servant for a whole week. To make matters even worse, France decided to personalize you as if you were his own, little, dress up doll.

"Go try this on. You will look beautiful in it~" France had said as he handed you a maid outfit, a pair of cat ears and a tail. You groan and go to change, locking the bathroom door behind you. "I don't trust that pervy frog face," you grumble. "He'll try to peep at me naked the first chance he gets, that bastard."You finish putting the cat ears and look at yourself in the mirror.

The maid costume you wear is simple. Rich, dark fabric laced with frilly, pale white trimming around the neck, shoulders, and bottom. On your head –of course– are the dainty cat ears. The last part of your costume is the tail, which casually hangs from the back of your dress. You unlock the door and walk directly into France. A small gasp escapes your lips and the impact sends you falling to the floor.

"[Name], are you ok?" France asks, kneeling down to help you. He extends his hand out to assist, but you don't respond. Your gaze is locked on his fabulous eyes.

Never before had you have a chance to observe them so up close before. And as much as you hate to admit it, you know for a fact that his eyes are gorgeous. Such beautiful colors swirl and dance around so gracefully, to form a hue of blue as clear as the sky, and as dark and mysterious as the sea. The sound of France's worried call snaps you back to reality.

"[Name], are you sure that you are ok? Or has the cat –as you say– got your tongue?" Blushing lightly, you laugh at his clever joke. You take his hand and he helps you up.

"Ah! I almost forgot something," France says happily. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a collar to match what you're wearing. Without hesitation, he swiftly puts it around your neck.

"Belle(1)," he coos. "Now your uniform is complete. And you look _so _cute~" "Uniform?!" you exclaim in complete surprise. "You mean I have to wear this all week?!"

You tugged the dress a bit. "But this is too short!" you whine. You then pull up the outfit because you noticed that you pulled it down too low and your bra is showing. France chuckles as he watches you struggle. "Yes ma chéri(2), you _have_ to. You did lose the bet no?" You shoot an angry glance at the Frenchman, which he ignores.

"Now you can go ahead and get to work, please," France says as he points to a large shelf across the hallway. It is aligned with books of all sorts. "I want you to dust the shelf and sweep under it." Sighing, you make your way towards the furniture.

When you get there, you notice that there is a ladder and a pink, puffy duster waiting for you. Slowly but carefully, you make your way up the ladder with the duster in hand. "Chu– !" the dust on and around the shelf makes you sneeze over and over again.

You're less than halfway done when France comes along to see how you are. "Making good progress, aren't we, [Name]? And let me add, I have a lovely view from down here~" he says. "You fucking pedophile!" you yell shrilly. You rush to try to cover yourself.

France smirks. "Aw, you are just _too _adorable when you panic!" You are so close to punching him right in the face out of rage. Yet you don't because you must stay true to your word and do the deed that must be done. Instead, you remain calm, collected, and simply let out a puff of air.

Eventually, France goes away. Hopefully, working will help you get that embarrassing event out of your thoughts. After some time, you are finally finished.

You get down from the ladder and stand back to admire your work. Then you glance over at the bottom part of the shelf. There is something sticking out, which reminds you that you must clean under the shelf as well.

You kneel down but don't bend over before checking around you. He could be anywhere. After all you _are_ in his house. And after that incident…– you shudder. Seeing that the coast is clear, you begin to clean under the shelf.

Every once in a while, you look around just to make sure "you-know-who" isn't there. You finish rather quickly since there wasn't much dirtiness underneath. But then you notice something strange.

You haven't seen France around since the event with the ladder. "Hm," you mutter. That's weird. Usually France would pounce at the chance of seeing me – or anyone for that matter, boy or girl – bent over in this way. Dismissing the thought, you get ready to stand up when you sense someone's presence behind you. Turning around slowly, you see who it is.

"Fra–"you start to say his name but your mouth is suddenly covered by a pair of large, warm hands. "Shhh, ma douce fleur(3). I can enjoy your beauty so much more when you are silent and relaxed." You try to scream, but it does you no good. Your cry for help is muffled behind the barrier that blocks your mouth.

"There, there, mon petit chaton(4)," France says softly as he gently strokes your head. "I'll take good care of you~" he breathes with a mischievous grin painted across his face.

"Now, follow me." He attaches a leash to your collar. You try to resist going to whatever place he's trying to get you to go to. You do _NOT_ trust him at all.

France's house is a scary one, and nobody is stupid enough to venture here. The strange country might be even more frightening than Russia. In the "I'm-going-to-rape-you" sort of way rather than the "Get-close-and-you'll-die" messages that the cold, Ivan gives.

Oh god. Now that you think about it, you _REALLY_ regret making that bet. Why would you even agree to an idiotic thing like that?

What was going on in your mind back then? You try to recall what you did in the past. Oh yeah, now you remember.

You were extremely drunk that night. God dammit, Germany and Prussia with their beer. Prussia had suggested that you drink one. You said no, knowing how carried away you got when drinking. But you drank it anyways and – of course – lost control and agreed to the deal.

Fuck. You are an idiot. Thank to you – and that tempting beer – you're in this mess and you're going to get- You don't even want to think about what'll happen next. You brace yourself for what will probably be the most horrible even in your life.

1 Belle – beautiful

2 Ma chéri – my darling

3 Ma douce fleur – my sweet flower

4 Ma petit chaton – my small kitten


End file.
